


Majestic 12

by Thaiser



Category: Trying Human
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 14:21:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1120885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thaiser/pseuds/Thaiser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is a hard thing, to live in isolation and secrecy, but those who do are rarely alone in their pursuits.</p><p>a relatively short treatise on life within the infamous MJ 12</p>
            </blockquote>





	Majestic 12

While it might sometimes seem hard for an outsider to believe, a life of secrecy and exclusive seclusion was not always a fun life to live.

But entering into the handling of matters concerning top national security, was quite a bit like being taken in by a tight knit street gang. by the time you have made your way in intentionally, voluntarily, or otherwise, the way out has already been firmly sealed behind you. 

In a way the people who pass their days covering up what the public mustn't know, were themselves secrets that needed careful guarding from the gazes of wandering eyes.

When the papers held between your fingers had stamps of top secret, and the signatures of presidents and leaders unknown alike, those stamps, that confidentiality, spread onto your hands, your body, and by extension, your very identity.

And just as the papers never stated their true purpose or contents on the envelope, so too did the people handling them end up as anonymous faceless shadows to the world outside of bunkers, patrolling guards and stubborn denial.

Confidentiality is a carefully woven web, while at first it may be structured and planned out ages before it's very creation, it is often twisted by both need and circumstance.

A plan no matter how meticulously analyzed and constructed, it is still just a plan. It cannot be expected to simply handle everything thrown at it by the chaos of the realities, both true and false, surrounding it, however many there may be.

So the plan changes, it twists and turns trying to keep up with the rapid fluctuations of the worlds around it.

And as time inevitably passes what was once organization wide cooperation, can easily turn into blacked out cars and tightly knit cliques of only a select few.

Indeed it may even go as far as an engineer spending months and months drawing schematics and doing calculations, for a project he barely knows exists. He is not in any clique but his own, and what he is building is for another group, so he mustn't know, and he mustn't ask.

Life in the highest ranks was different, and just as the upper and lower classes both have envied one another, so did many of those who were envied for their knowledge, envy others for their freedoms.

The Majestic 12 was once such group, privy to oceans of massively restricted knowledge yet unable to share it with anyone but each other.

The trivia of others paled in comparison to their own, the little hiding places of mother ships and the deals made between human and not in small, soundproof rooms on bases no one would admit even existed, was common insight within their world.

Their group was an exclusive one, with not even their closest associates truly certain of the extent of their power and their duties, only that they were an important and integral part of the base and the government alike.

There were even those on their home base, that had only heard whispers of their very existence, so concealed and actively camouflaged were they.

Most of those who saw them recognized them only as a component of operations never to be questioned, only carefully observed for but the briefest of moments over their own papers.

Such a life was not a simple one. When you know countless things about the universe that only a select few, eleven others to be exact, were even allowed to hear whispers of, life became a complicated and insulate affair.

Walls do not have to be visible or even physical constructs to exist and impede, and the walls that were built and maintained around them were particularly tall and carefully guarded.

Isolate twelve people together and the outcome will be a complex spectrum ranging from a close knit family like group, to an all out cage fight. Constant disagreement was a draining chore to maintain, and camaraderie had always ruled stubbornly over their interactions.

When there are only eleven other people on this earth who know the same as you, who are even allowed to know that you exist as anything beyond a number and a neat, classic suit and tie, bonds are bound to form. 

Some of them had left behind friends and family coming to work where they did, knowingly or otherwise, others had had nothing left to lose. 

For most of them the job had been a welcome escape from an unwanted life, for others a chance to get even, a choice few, had never wished for it in the first place, rather they had simply adjusted and coped as best they could, after all, the door had been shut, they were behind the walls now, they all were.

There is a very fine line between being included and being trapped, often, it is a simple matter of perspective.

In the end, and for the most part, they all got along very well. There is always friction when something changes in an otherwise static assembly, but you would be hard pressed to find a member of any exclusive fraternity who has not at some point been hazed by those who he now considers his closest friends.

As such once fully integrated into the group, they knew a lot, not only about "condemned" buildings and "fictional" races, but about their few fellows, they all had stories and reasons all their own. But life in The MJ 12 was such that you could tell no one, no one but the people you found yourself locked in isolation with.

So they shared and confided, they lived and worked together and it would be no other way. There was no other way, not anymore.  
As they say, the family that covers up livestock mutilations together, stays together.


End file.
